


The Dance of Hati and Sól

by Tiranni



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Battle, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fighting, Vikings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-09 06:27:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11098806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiranni/pseuds/Tiranni
Summary: She's different from the other women, her hands were strong and yet soft. Her voice was feared yet they yearned to hear more. Her strength was that of a Valkyrie yet they lusted over her body as if she were Freya. Yet no matter who sought to bed the slave, her eyes were only on the crippled prince. Her hands craved to feel the muscle under his skin. Her lips hungered for his. They were all each other needed. She belonged to him, and one no else.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first chapter of the Fanfiction "The Dance of Hati and Sól". Please enjoy the story and my characters but understand that all I own are the characters that I introduce. Ivar, Aslaug etc. all belong to History Channel. If you have any questions or comments please contact me on here or Tumblr! My user is Tiranni just as this user of Ao3. Enjoy.

Everything was different here. The air was crisp, the skies clear showcasing a soft blue and sporadic clouds with a gentle shine. The grass, though moist from the fresh rain that cascaded down only moments ago smelt of flowers and the blooming of spring. Quiet calls of birds to their mates and the soft steps of deer filled the air. Yes, things were very different here. There were no screams. No moaning of the dying and no one to watch as you slowly wither away in a cage with a twisted grin on their face. It was peaceful. Whatever this haven may be, she was glad to feel safe again. Everything was perfect, just perfect…

Hands. That was the first thing the girl felt, grazing her skin with a blazing path from shoulder to shoulder as if someone were gripping them. Then it was scent, the smell of sweat and pine filled her nostrils as the hands begun to shake her softly. Finally, her ears twitched to life, a voice. Whomever this deep voice belonged to called out a name, a name that held some type of spell on her, willing her out of the paradise that she previously found herself in.

“…wake up…”

She shifted slightly in the grass, arching her back to find some sort of comfort, only to have the soft blades of grass leave her sensitive skin. In its place, rough sturdy wood slapped against her back, making her hiss slightly from the contact. The hands shook her harder, the back of her head lightly smacking the floor giving the girl a slight headache. As she grumbled, slowly lifting her head to the side, she noticed a bright light forming behind her lidded eyes. The girl blinked once, then again. Her eyes focused on the bright light, now a hole in the ceiling which was the source of her earlier blindness. Her half lidded eyes slid to the man holding her shoulders, covered in grime and filth, the man sighed softly. His chapped lips curved into a soft smile as he rested his large hand on the back of her neck and pulled her close. 

For some reason, the embrace comforted the girl, and she rested her tired head on his padded shoulder, letting out a breath of air she hadn’t noticed she was holding in. The man released the back of her neck, retracting from the female to give her some space to sit up properly, his hand now on her upper back as the girl struggled to sit up.

“Come now, I won’t have you sleep the day away…” whispered the deep voice. The female surveyed her surroundings as she sat up fully, her back cracking as she straightens up correctly. The walls around them were dark and wet, the wooden structure made her feel like a useless animal, her mind quickly looking for a way out but finding the rusted lock to be shut tight. She struggled to find her voice as she looked over at the man sitting beside her, his eyes filled with worry and utmost care. Lifting her hand, she gave the man a soft pat on his cheek, taking notice of how her knuckles were bruised and battered. Her smile mirrored his as she tried to speak.

“I-I…” She let out a harsh series of coughs that caused the man to frantically look around for the pail of water that was located in the dark corner of the cell. Rushing over to the corner, he pulled the pail over to the female, lifting it to her lips and allowing her to take as much as necessary. Her coughs seized only for the few seconds; she coughed once more for good measure now since her throat was properly clear. Licking her lips to keep them moisturized, the girl smiled again at the man in thanks. Groaning softly, she shut her eyes and lifted her arms over her head, stretching out the tense muscle and arching her back. The bottom half of her body slowly started to awake, as her legs buzzed back to life in an almost uncomfortable way. The female brought her arms down, wrapping them around her clothed legs as she brought them to her chest to give the limbs some sort of release.

Looking down at her body, she took note of the major and minor changes, the bruises the filled her arms and legs that were there without having to look under her patted pants and the layered tunic was the only concern she truly had. Rolling up her sleeves the girl crossed her legs together in a sitting position, her hands on her knees as she watched the man copy her to her left. They both locked eyes and smiled at each other, both thankful to be graced with their presence. She gave the man a soft pat on his shoulder as she looked over to the rusted lock again. “How long…?” 

“About two days, since you’ve been out. Apparently, we're off to be sold somewhere else.” The girl gave him a questioning glance as she raised an eyebrow. Somewhere else aye… The girl let out a long sigh as the man next to her nodded, seeming to understand her annoyance. “This time the masters say we will actually be of use this time. More buyers that will actually be in need of slaves.”  Taking this under consideration, the female nodded and looked over at the male. “And what do you say, brother? Do you think this place will bring any light to our situation?” Her brother scoffed loudly, earning a grin from his sister as he combed back his dark night hair, the braids coming loose and resulting in only more fly away hairs to cover his tired face. “Sweet sister, there is no light for the situation we are in. You know this just as well as I.” Looking down at his overworked hands; his eyes seemed to have slowly lost its light, knowing that wherever they end up, he could risk losing his younger sister to the trade. 

The warmth of a small hand met his cheek, raising his face up so his light hazel eyes met matching golden hued ones. He examined his sister, her long black hair knotted back on either side into a messy braid to keep the hair out of her face, bright hazel eyes that flickered gold in the sunlight much like his own, and a straight small nose with full pink lips that stretched into a gentle smile. She was stunning just as much as he was good looking, and he was very good looking.  He turned his head to the side, taking her hand and giving her bruised knuckles a soft kiss as a loud banging interrupted their conversation.

“Get up! Come on you worthless dogs, get up!” The guard had arrived, a man who watched over the slaves and made sure each was well enough fed to be bought and sold to any buyers the masters came across. Short in stature, fat and balding on the top of his head, the older man was nowhere close to graceful when it came to caring for the well-being of the slaves. The only thing the slaves truly appreciated from the man is his lack of violence. He woke them, fed them and was on his way.  “Welcome to Kattegat ya’ old mutts! Masters want everyone lined up! Get to it!” The guard banged a large bat against the cages, using extra force for the ones who were asleep and sneered as they struggled to awaken.  Stopping in front of the sibling’s cell, his sneer only worsens, showing off his yellow, decaying teeth as his fat hand gripped the club and banged against the cell bars harshly. “Come on you two, up and out.” Though the pair had a mutual distaste for the older man, they nodded obediently and stood, the brother holding his sister's arm to help her stand. The guard quirked his eyebrow as he leaned closer to the bars. “Oi, what’s wrong with the lil one?” asked the guard as he quickly unlocked the cell. Not that older man truly cared for the young woman; he just wanted to know in case he has to report anything to any higher uppers. Her brother looked at the man with a glare, patting her back to make the girl straighten her back. Looking up to her brother and then over to the guard, the two mirrored the same expression of clear annoyance, “None of your concern, old man.” 

The guard grumbled under his breath and waddled over to the next cage, his large shadow leaving the cell as his banged against another stall and ordered the same as the rest. Though hated, the guard had only one thing on his mind, take care of his own and get the job done, and nothing diverted that from his duty. It was something that the siblings respected, and by far about the only thing they respected from the old oaf.

The pair made their way out of the cage and followed the leading group of slaves to the deck of the ship. Everyone was packed together in a tight crowd, shoulder to shoulder and stepping on the heel of each other’s foot. There were children and elderly in the center, women closer outward and the men encircled everyone else, being sure to watch for any guards trying to separate the group to get females or children alone. The siblings stuck close to each other, their hands intertwined as the man kept his sister inside the crowd to be safe. As the herd made their way to the deck of the large ship, the children held up the elderly so that they could move at the proper speed without being left be hide.

The dark haired girl felt someone bump against her upper arm, looking down she watched as the older, pale woman take slow deep breathes. Taking the woman’s arm, the young girl forced the elder to look up at her, she watched tired and dark-lidded eyes glance up at her hazel hue. These cold blue orbs reflected pain as the elder struggled to stand.

“What is your name?” The elder gasped as the younger girl took her by her armpits to help the woman stand properly and flung an arm around her hip. By nature, the sick woman wrapped her arm around the girl's neck, The woman opened her mouth to speak but her voice failed to be of use. Sharp hazel eyes glanced down at broken blue orbs, the girl repeated, “Your name, tell me.” The woman watched in awe as the man next to girl looked over at the pair, his golden eyes matching the female in front of herself.  _...they’re like gods… _ The elderly woman felt her heart quicken as she felt the young woman's hand grip her hip tightly, the sunlight peeking out to bring light to the pair. She gazed at the midnight hair that was braided back on each side of the younger females head, the rest of her hair pulled back, flowing like an endless river. 

A calm, female voice interrupted the thoughts of the fascinated woman, “You must gain your strength now. If the masters ask for you to present yourself while the auction starts and you can’t even stand properly, you will be pulled back into the cages.” A tremble traveled down the woman's back as she looked down at her bare rough feet, glancing over at the worn out boots the younger of the pair wore. The elder’s main hope was to be looked over and hopefully sold to a farmer's family. Her body couldn’t go through the pain of serving a master strictly as the object of their lust, she still barred the scars on her back when she cried for help.  _ No… not again… _ Her body, although broken like her soul, found its voice. “ Metta...my name…” The goddess in front of her gave the woman a proud nod, a smile forming on her breathtaking face. “Good woman…” The elder matched her smile with a broken one, a blush forming on her wrinkled face. 

The trio arrived at the first floor of the ship, guards standing by with whips and clubs to encourage stragglers to catch up with the rest. As the group descended down the plank leading to the decks of Kattegat the younger woman looked up at the sky. _ Gray…  _ Sunlight was shielded by heavy clouds and the mountains were covered thick in greenery. Past to rows of variously sized figures stood a large village, where common folk gathered, hands at the ready for the auction to begin. Looking behind her, the girl watched as the waves lapped against the shoreline, the fresh scent of the sea hitting her face with a gentle breeze. _ Everything was so different here… Much like my dream… _ Not taking what she thought to heart, the girl noticed a large hand on her lower back, she looked up at her brother. 

“Amund…” Hazel eyes met one with slight confusion and the other filled with dread. “You know what I am about to say…” and she did. Every time the pair were at risk of being separated from the trade Amund said the same words each and every time to his younger sister.  Shaking her head firmly, the girl followed the crowd of slaves into the port, all lining up into three rows, the trio being the farthest from land. Droplets of the sea splashed against the legs of the siblings, both looking forward as the masters came by row to row, counting the slaves each with a whip in hand. Amund looked down at his sister, giving her a sad smile as the girl detached herself from the elder woman. The younger girl took Metta by her shoulders. “Listen to me, you must stand straight and keep your chin up if you want to be sold to a worker you much look strong.” Metta gave the dark haired girl a weary nod. Finally, the arm Metta had slung around the younger female's neck slipped away, pulling her shoulders up and holding her head high as possible. Glancing down at the shorter and older female, the dark haired female nodded, feeling confident that the elder can now truly stand on her own. 

The hand on her lower back moved, pulling her close into an embrace. Taking a quick look around, the siblings held each other close, her arms wrapped around Amund’s neck as she let out a soft sigh. “Amund...if we get separated,” the girl whispered to him as they held each other close, her breath warm against his ear. “I know sweet sister… I love you. I will find you if we get separated.” Gently pulling apart from each other, the pair gave mutual grim smiles. 

Tears slowly fell down the pale cheeks of the dark headed sister, looking down as if ashamed to be crying in front of her older brother.  Both have been so lucky to be together for so long and not yet to be taken advantage of. Whenever they are sold, both are given to masters that work as smiths, warriors, or chefs, neither having an accident where either could be held against their will or worse. Feeling a familiar rough hand meeting her cheek softly, she leaned against it, her lower lip trembling as lips met her forehead. Kissing her forehead and eyelids, the brother wiped away her tears quickly. “Do not cry, you know better.” Nodding slowly, she opened her eyes to study her brother, as if engraving his face in her memory in case of anything. 

Small hazel eyes and a strong, straight nose. He was everything that she was, both were each others' backbone. The same lips though his were thinner, the only major difference in their faces was the tattoos that decorate the left side of his shaved head. She could still hear the groaning of her brother as their father laughed at the young man, quoting about how he was so confident that the tattoos wouldn't hurt simply because father never complained about any pain. They both look so much alike. The pain in her heart began to spread, her lungs becoming tight as her eyes slid past his strong chin covered by a short beard and down to his neck. Under the shadow of his beard laid the same necklace that their mother wore, a small wooden pendant with the carvings of Sól and Máni, the sun, and the moon. Amund looked down at his sister, a dispiriting smile formed as he recalled the times he made fun of her height, though she was taller than most women. Releasing his sister momentarily, Amund pulled the necklace from around his neck and slowly slipped it over her slender one. A soft cry left her lips, refusing to look at her brother but knowing that trying to stop him would be useless. The necklace should be passed down, from family member to family member. “If anything happens-” “I know...” Neither spoke, both having nothing to say and knowing that if they did share another moment together, they could be caught by one of the masters for interacting while deals were being made.

Amund looked forward, watching as one of the masters, decorated in fine bright silk and a heavy headscarf around his small head, ventured closer to the pair. He stood straight, eyes forward and lightly pinching the back of his sister’s hand to do the same. The dark haired woman released her bottom lip, now red with the rush of blood that accumulated over the short amount of time. Copying her brother's stance, hazel orbs stared half-lidded at the head in front of her, not giving anyone the chance to notice the red rim around the corners of her eyes.

Next to the master stood a tall pale goddess, eyes bright and blue, burning with knowledge that neither of the siblings could possess. Covered in rich wolf and fox furs and a long slimming maroon dress with decorative vines which were beautifully stitched, her short light brown hair was pulled back with two simple braids resting on the crown of her head. As the master and mysterious woman inched closer to the dark-haired siblings a long howl of the wind blew against their skin. The fresh scent of the sea attacked the females nostrils yet again as she willed her eyes to concentrate on the back of the older man in front of her. The soft crows of a raven filled her ears, as soft footsteps inched closer. Time seemed to have slowed, the number of stitches she was counting on the back of the shirt the older stranger in front of her wore no longer seemed to interest her. The young woman’s eyes drifted to the tall beauty. Hazel met blue, and in an instant, the world seemed to have stopped. 

Gray clouds shifted slowly, churning and toppling over one another as the wind slowly started to pick up. The sea hummed against the shores of Kattegat as if it were pleased by the meeting of the two women. Aslaug listened carefully to the omens around her, surveying the slave in front of her with keen interest. “And what of this one...what is her price?” Resting a pale, slender hand on the neck of the slave, her fingers grazed against a carved necklace. The queen of Kattegat studied for small facial expressions on the woman in front of her if there were any. Emotionless, strong and proud hazel eyes held their gaze as if the slave were analyzing her as well. 

“This one, well… she is one of our best. A strong worker and skilled in combat yet...not the best at obeying.” Aslaug noticed the hiss at the end of his sentence, breaking eye contact, she glared down at the smaller man. “She will do well for my house, bring her.” Just before Aslaug completely turned to the next slave in line she saw it. A soft hiccup in the female slave left her mouth as she snapped her neck to the man on her left. Aslaug looked at the man.  _ There is two of them? _ Yet the shores gave no signal, the ravens flew past the port and back in the wild, and the clouds finally rested. Looking back and forth between the pair she studied their eyes. Both had wild spirits, holding something chained within their souls that were begging to be released. 

Suddenly, two long and deep howls ripped through the air. A deep shiver traveled down Aslaug’s spine, images filled her head. Two warriors, drenched in blood and shirtless holding bloodied axes and broken shields on a field covered in gore filled her thoughts. One was a man, a muscled back with slashes carved into his skin, the man's front depicting a large black wolf, swallowing the god, Máni. _ Skoll… _ Next to the man stood a beautiful dark haired woman, her back inked with the same evil wolf, devouring the sun goddess Sól.  _ Hati… _ Her left finger barred a ring, given to her by a wonderful lover who sits in a battered, bloodied chariot. Who the man in the chariot is...she could not tell. Yet, once the dark haired girl turned her head to the unknown man, a smile on her face of caring and golden eyes filled with love, the ones that stared back at her were completely and utterly devoted to the woman.  _ Blue...they shine blue...like Ragnar. _

With a soft shake on her lower arm, Aslaug slowly came back to Kattegat, standing immobile for only a good fifteen seconds before the queen gave a quiet hiss, her head pounding due to her prolonged vision. Looking at the hand on her forearm, blue orbs traveled the muscular limb to meet a young man, both sides of his head shaved and a long thick braid down the middle, a large tattoo on the left side of his temple which depicted a large wolf. Aslaug smiled softly, looking up at the taller man as her hand patted his rough fingers, indicating that she was able to stand. Releasing the woman, concern lingered carefully as he and his sister stood straight, their eyes forward and face plain. 

Smirking at their warrior like actions, the Queen looked down at the slave owner, her eyes now cold. “Both of them. I will take the boy and girl.” Turning to her right, a servant girl, weak in frame and mind gave the queen a pouch filled with gold, her eyes downcast. Greedy eyes watched frantically as the queen counted out the gold. “Twelve a piece I assume.” bright blue eyes slid over to the sweating male, his desire clear as day as she slowly counted the pieces of coin in her hand. “F-Fourteen for...ah...each?” Taking off his oversized headscarf, the greedy owner ran his dirty fingers through his thinning gray hair. Aslaug watched as his fat, black tongue ran across his lack of teeth. “We had an agreement, twelve for both. Take it or leave my ports.” Snapping his neck up at the woman, a snarl formed on his chapped lips yet the queen looked unafraid, her mind silently begging him to say something improper. 

Quietly watching the interaction from them, the siblings stood dangerously still, Amund at the ready to block the woman if his owner lost his head and his sister ready to pull the queen back to protect her from the brawl. Though there was no need, succumbing to the queen, the master looked down at his battered and holey shoes. “Twelve… we can have them prepared for you at the ready before nightfall.” “There is no need,” Aslaug threw the pouch against the male's chest and turned to the siblings, her smile kind but her eyes focused as if she had some sort of initiative by the end of this bargain. “Both of you follow me, I will appoint you to the servants of the great hall under the roof of Ragnar Lothbrok, the king of Kattegat. I am his wife, Aslaug.” Both of the siblings glanced at one another, neither daring to say a word. Amund was the first to move, kneeling down in front of the queen, his eyes to the floor, his sister followed quickly in the same position after. “We promise to do our best to serve you, my queen,” Amund spoke softly with his deep voice, something Aslaug did not expect from someone that looked so robust. Smiling down at her newly acquired servants, she gave both a pat on their shoulders, signaling for them to stand. 

“Come, you must rest for tomorrow.” Leading the way, Aslaug walked from the row of slaves, finally allowing farmers and smiths to take a look for a pair of extra hands. Before following her brother and new master, the dark haired girl turned to the older woman, her hazel eyes soft as she leaned down, giving the woman a soft kiss on her forehead. Metta looked up at the girl, her eyes filled with tears but refused to let them free. Letting out a soft chuckle, the girl laid her hands on the tired woman's shoulders. “Why do you cry, my beautiful woman?” Metta let out a broken laugh that was interrupted with a hiccup. “It has been so long...since someone asked me my name...since...someone cared…” The girl nodded softly, pulling the old woman close and hugging her tight. A rush of tears fell down the woman's cheek as she sobbed quietly. “Listen to me,” the girl leaned down to the elder, taking the wrinkled face in her hands, “You are strong, stronger than I will ever be.” Wiping away tears with her thumb, she continued. “Stay strong, Metta. You must. The gods will always watch over you. They will commemorate you for your strength.” 

From afar, Aslaug watch alongside Amund, her heart strings pulling roughly against her lungs. “Is she always this kind?” Amund nodded, his hazel eyes soft as he watched the scene, “My sister has a knack for things such as cripples, bastards, and broken things. She cares for all equally.” Looking up at the man, she smiled softly.  _ These two are growing on me already. _ Shaking the thought away, Aslaug listened in the slave's conversation carefully. 

Metta finally pulled away, her eyes red and puffy, her nose dripping with mucus. Yet, the young girl did not steer away from the old woman, pulling her sleeve up to cover her hand, the girl wiped away her tears, her mucus. “What is your name young girl?” asked Metta softly, slightly ashamed for not asking before, despite the pain she was feeling in their first encounter. Giving the woman a kind smile, she stood up fully, towering over the elder as she turned her eyes to the ground as if she was lost in memory. My name… The name that willed me out of my paradise, the name that was given to me by a dying mother right before she bore me. 

“My name is Runa.”

 

End Chapter I


	2. Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Firstly, I would like to thank each and everyone who reblogged and loved the first chapter of The Dance of Hati and Sól. Due to all of the love and support on all platforms, I feel encouraged and eager to continue writing for the beautiful Heathen Army. Secondly, I would like to apologize. Due to family issues, I wasn't able to update weekly as I first planned thus the delay of chapter 2. But none the less, it's finally here and I will continue to write for Daddy Ivar's Heathen Army! Please enjoy.

A fresh blood-soaked odor filled her nostrils; twisted, decaying bodies laid out the land mass in groups of large hills. Rain echoed through the battleground. Long black hair that was tied back in thick multiple braids covered the crown of her head, arms, and legs covered by layers of thick leather and blood. Golden eyes stared blankly into the horizon that was blocked by mountains of corpses. There were no voices, no pleads for help, only silence.

"Runa…" she turned her head to the side, acknowledging the man who called out her name but not allowing him to see her face that was splashed with blood stains. "Runa." The male voice became more fierce as if he were angry with the female. The grip she had around the splintered axe tightened, wood cutting into her wounds. A flash of gold flickered up a the man behind her, watching as he took multiple steps closer. Looking back down at his legs, her mind questioned the ability he possessed but her mouth wouldn't open to object. Feeling a warm calloused hand raise her chin, Runa looked up the bright blue eyes. Seconds turned to minutes as the two didn't break the stare, rain beating against the top of their heads. He pulled closer, eyes half-lidded with lust. Runa said nothing, her free hand gripping his padded upper arm as he inched closer towards her face. She could feel the heat of his breath against her chilled skin. A long clap of thunder invaded the silence as the skies churned. When their lips met, Runa shivered as he pulled her closer, strikes of lighting scattered throughout the sky. Hands went down to her curved hips, pulling her against his heated body.

Gasping out for air, Runa pulled away, exposing her neck to the man as he kissed down to her throat. She dropped the broken hilt of the axe, wrapping her tired arms around the neck of her lover. He let out a soft groan as her fingered ran through his slick hair, tightening his grip on her waist as he sucked the skin of her neck. Runa moaned quietly in his ear, closing her eyes until an additional crash of thunder filled the atmosphere. This time, a large blast of lightning illuminated the black sky. Her hands were left empty, the warm touch of lips disappeared as quickly as the lightning. Runa snapped her eyelids open, frantically looking around for her lover, trying to call out for him yet her mouth disobeyed to her will. Hearing a pained moan, Runa looked down to see the man, his legs bound by leather as he struggled to crawl away from her. Bright blue eyes were filled with pain and tears, sobbing as he hid his face in shame.

Feeling her heart break at the sight, Runa inched closer, her legs bent and her arms held high as if approaching a wounded animal. "No! Don't come near me!" His voice was broken, filled with deep sobs as his body shook due to the chilled rain. Hazel eyes never left his face, her knees met the bloody blades of grass as she dragged herself closer. Reaching out to his pale cheek, a soft smile slid across her face as the man retreated back. She sat in front of him, her body stood tall on her knees while blue eyes stared back at her face. Reaching out again, her smile widened as he allowed her hand to rest on his tear soaked cheek, leaning into her bruised yet soft hands.

Abruptly, strong arms encircled her hips, pulling her body tight against his lap. Humiliated eyes looked into her eyes, filling her heart with sadness. Her hand wiped away the fresh set of tears, kissing his forehead softly. "I love you Runa…" chuckling at his words, Runa took his face her hands, kissing his lips. Then her mouth opened, and she spoke. "I love you Ivar…" Then, a loud crash of thunder roared throughout the battleground. Runa's eyes snapped open.

* * *

Amund watched carefully as the rain poured down through the night sky, his hazel eyes glancing up, counting the lightning strikes that flashed in the darkness. His bare back against the wooden panel of the window, Amund shivered as a gust of wind blew against his pale skin. The queen allowed the siblings to stay in a small hut with a small group of slaves that was close to the great hall, where she and her four sons lived. The two are to start their duties by the morn, learning from the other servants and will be washed and clothed in fresh clothes. His neck knotted tightly due to the anxiety he felt growing in the pits of his stomach. With a deep sigh, he straightened his back, allowing his neck to roll slowly side to side as he pulled his leather covered legs up to lay on the window seal.

"Brother…" Amund rolled his neck towards the soft voice that called for him, eyes half-lidded as he held out his hand. "Come." From the shadows stood a young woman, her long hair was loose since they were both scheduled for a bath tomorrow. Wearing only a tunic that her brother had given her, Runa stood covered by a thick black blanket, concealing her round chest and hips as the ends dragged across the wooden floor. Walking over to her brother, Runa did not reach for his hand, instead, she pulled herself up to the window seal, sitting directly in front of her brother. Pulling her long legs to her chest, Runa watched as the rain smacked the mud outside, another roar of thunder interrupting the peace.

"Why are you up?" Amund pulled his legs up as she did, using his arms to encircle them with his hands clasped together. Glancing over to her muscled brother, Runa pointed up to the sky, her eyebrows raised quickly. "Thor is vocal tonight… I was awakened by the thunder in my dream." Not bothering to look back towards his sister, Amund nodded in agreement, taking note of the thirteenth bright strike of lightning that appeared. "And yourself?" asked Runa, her hazel eyes sliding up towards the black sky while her body let out a soft shiver. Amund didn't respond, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of their new masters.

Runa raised her left leg, the thick blanket slipping off her pale muscled calf as she nudged the man in front of her with her foot. Looking over at her pale foot now pressed against his clothed leg, Amund grunted giving the female a rough shrug of his broad shoulders. "Nothing that you should be worried about…" raising her foot, Runa slipped off the window seal while she yawned loud and obnoxiously. "Fine sweet brother, sulk away in your thoughts. I will sleep," Taking a few steps forward, Runa stopped only to turn her head and look directly at her older brother. The siblings' eyes met, a soft smile reflected on both of their faces. "Love you, Mund." Smirking at the childish nickname, Amund nodded and turned away, listening to the soft patter of feet walking away and the shuffle of blankets in the other room.

_She deserves better than this life…_ another flash of lightning shined in the swirling clouds. Thor beating his hammer harshly as groans of thunder called out to their master. Quiet thoughts of escape filled the back of Amund's mind, as they always did whenever he and Runa were sold to another master. Yet, he never acted upon them, in fear of what would happen to his sister if they caught her before himself. To see her hurt, in any type of way, was something he promised to never happen. _Hopefully, Father, I can always keep my word._ The thunder settled over time, the lightning strikes disappeared as the rain cooled the surface of the land.

The sweet songs of birds awaken the people of Kattegat, slow shuffling of wagons and clucks of roosters walking down beaten paths of the village. From quiet mummers outside of the room both siblings shared, stood a young slave girl by the name of Margrethe. The queen had woken her earlier this morning, telling her to prepare two baths for the new servants that arrived yesterday. Her slender body was concealed in a makeshift dress, 'eyes as blue as the sky and hair as pale as silver'. Or that was what the people of the village saw the slave girl as. Her sweet smile hid dark desires and the thirst for attention from the sons of Ragnar. The sex drive she had was fulfilled by each one, sometimes better than the other. Yet, none of that was the reason she was so eager for the two slaves to awaken. Margrethe was curious of the man that laid on the other side of the door. The sight of him yesterday wetten her core to no end, she could imagine his large hands on her body, taking her fiercely just as Ubbe had. _Yet, he is larger than Ubbe…_ A quiet giggle left her lips, wondering if he really was 'bigger' than the second oldest prince.

Hearing a loud groan from the other side of wood startled the girl, jumping back as a loud thump echoed. Margrethe felt her heart beat twice as fast, pale cheeks reddening as she cautiously stepped back into her previous position. Daring to step closer, a shaky breath left her soft pink lips as she pressed her ear against the door. "Oi, watch where you step!" "Wait, don't move that's my- OW!" "Move out of the way then!" "Damnit…Runa move!" "You move! And open the curtain!" Another crash rang against the blonde's ear causing her to pull back with a hiss. Suddenly the door slammed open, relieving a large man, his chiseled chest covered in a massive tattoo of a large wolf devouring an armored viking. Margrethe fell back on her hands, gasping in shock as dark hazel eyes analyzed the woman. A rush of blood filled her cheeks when their eyes met, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip for dear life. There was no clear emotion on the male's face, no sense of attraction was shown towards her, only confusion and annoyance.

From behind the man, appeared a tall woman as she pulled his arm. Before she opened her mouth to speak, matching hazel eyes looked down at the awestruck girl sitting on the floor. _Both are so beautiful._ Tall and sculpted, raven hair flowing down her back while the female wore nothing but a dirty tunic. The young woman looked up at her brother in confusion, who only bothered to shrug, his facial expression clearly full of annoyance from what happened earlier that morning. "Who are you?" Reaching his hand out for the blonde to grab, Amund asked in a husky and tired voice, watching as the blonde female blushed and took his hand. Delicate skin met a rough and calloused hand as Amund pulled the girl up swiftly. Margrethe yelped, stumbling forwards into the arms of the male, causing her red face to only worsen.

Runa leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed under her breasts as she watched the scene with a bored look on her face. The blonde opened her mouth to speak, her words merging together as she struggled while in the arms of her oblivious brother. "Let the woman go so she can talk properly Amund." Sky blue eyes snapped over to the tall female as if angered by her interruption; something that Runa has learned to ignore when it came to women and her brother. Amund listened without objection, stepping closer to his younger sister as his arms slipped behind his back in a stretch. "W-Well," her heart slowly started to beat normally again, cursing herself and the stranger for ruining the moment Margrethe shared with the man. "Queen Aslaug sent me here to help you both clean and dress for the morning…" Her voice was soft and slow, eyelashes fluttering as her fingers intertwined together in front of her chest. Neither of the siblings were impressed by the girl though it was Runa who was the first to introduce herself. "My name is Runa. This handsome oaf," a soft smack against the inked chest of the man caused him to smirk, looking over at his sister with a smug look, "is my brother, Amund." An another giggle left the lips of the blonde causing the male to twitch his upper lip in annoyance. Amund rolled his neck trying to hide the impolite gesture while the slave spoke, " My name is Margrethe. I'm one of the personal servants for the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok."

Amund interrupted, his eyes half-lidded due to a headache that was forming from the eventful morning, "Where are the baths?" Surprised by his irritated tone, Margrethe bit her lip while turning her back, as she slowly stepped down the hall. Runa was the first to follow, her arms crossed behind her back as she looked over at her half naked brother and pointed her head towards the girl. Grumbling under his breath, the man followed, his hands resting on the back of his thick neck, trying to release tension.

As the three walked down the small network of hallways lit by the windows and sporadic candle light. Runa caught up with the blonde, a friendly smile forming on her lips. "Where will my brother and I be stationed too?" Blue eyes looked up at the woman in slight annoyance, this woman was close to the height of the queen, both looked proud and beautiful with their long limbs and slim stature. Though the blonde envied Runa for her beauty, she also slightly resented her. "You and your brother? You two won't be working together." A rough voice rang behind, causing Margrethe to shyly look over her thin shoulder. "What do you mean woman?" Amund growled, he never enjoyed being separated from his sister, especially with people that he didn't know or trust. "W-Well," the slave slowed her steps, wanting to be closer to the male sibling other than his younger sister. "You both will have different duties. Runa will most likely become a servant in the kitchens while you may work with the Smiths."

Runa sucked the back of her teeth harshly, her hazel eyes flashed over towards the girl as she growled, "I can do just as well as Amund can with the blacksmiths." Margrethe's breathe hitched softly as golden eyes glared down at her body. Suddenly becoming nervous and scared, the slave tilted her head down in submission. "I-I'm sure the queen will decide based solely on your skill…" Amund looked over at the blonde, his thoughts questioning the sudden switch of emotion. She knows a way with words. Simply to keep her out of trouble. Keeping that note safely tucked away in his mind, Amund's hand met the crown of his sister's head. "You will be fine in the kitchens just as much as in the shop, don't fret." Reaching two separate doors, the slave girl walked forward. "The left is for females, the right is males. There is a set of clothes for both of you on the chair. Please wash quickly, the Ragnarssons will be waking soon…" With a quick summary of their orders, Margrethe bowed her head to the pair and quickly stepped back, glancing up to meet the warm golden eyes of Amund. Though their eyes met, Amund didn't give her a smile or nod of thanks, he simply turned to the wooden door on the right and slipped inside. Runa sighed, her hand resting on the shoulder of the smaller girl to gain her attention. "Listen, my friend. Amund isn't the most…attentive man. He will not notice your attraction right away." Listening to the dark haired woman's words Margrethe smiled sadly, her mind not taking much offense to the denial but the pang in her heart burned. All four of the sons of Ragnar wanted her, craving her touch and attention. _What's one man compared to four? Yet…I've never been with Ivar nor do I want too._ Margrethe took a deep sigh and looked up at the girl. "I'll be alright, don't worry about me." Returning the friendly smile Runa watched as the girl turned skipping down the hallway as she nodded and smiled in greeting to the other servants who were just leaving their rooms.

Shaking her head, Runa turned away from the scene and opened the door simply wanting to rest her aching body from the wrestling match her and Amund had that morning. Stepping inside, Runa closed the door soundlessly and slipped off Amund's tunic exposing her round pale breasts and flat stomach. A chilling breeze filled the room causing the dark haired girl to shiver as she covered her ample chest with her crossed arms. Slipping into the lukewarm tub quickly Runa dunked her head in the water. Her mind buzzed softly, tense muscle releasing it's energy as the girl slowly emerged her head from the water. Sharp golden eyes analyzed the room, it was simple and small. Four dark walls lit up by plenty of candles and three large dressers that most likely carried dresses and towels for visitors. In the back stood a small vanity, where small jewels and Kohl sat in bowls, apparently shared with the rest of the servants. There on the chair next to the vanity, laid a long blue dress, poorly done but suitable for work. _Fuck._ Runa glared down at the dress as she violently scrubbed her skin clean with a cloth. "Hate dresses…"

* * *

Aslaug sat quietly in the main hall, her hands resting on the arms of her chair as servants prepared the table. Plates were clattering, quiet mutters of where to put the food and chairs filled the room as all the servants opened the windows, allowing light in the dark hall. Yet nothing was said to Aslaug, her soft blue eyes glossed over as she thoughtlessly stared down in her lap. A soft voice interrupted the queen, "Excuse me, my lady?" A soft pang of pain soared across the depths of her mind causing the woman to sigh painfully as she looked towards the slave. Dark messy hair covered the young boy's dull brown eyes, allowing him to not directly make eye contact with the royal. "Go to the slave's hut in the back, fetch two slaves by the name of Runa and Amund. Bring them to me." with a flick of her wrist, the slave quickly jogged out of the hall to fulfill his orders. Aslaug watched the boy leave, her eyes tracing his form out of boredom as she leaned back against her throne.

Abruptly, a long yawn echoed throughout the social hall, catching the attention of Aslaug as she stood. Tall and board, a man slowly slipped between the curtains which separated the Great Hall from where the royal family lived. His eyes searched for Aslaug, briefly stopping a slave to take an apple from the bowl she carried and nodded in quick thanks. Slowly weaving through the mass of servants, the male's eyes finally caught the attention of the standing queen. Matching soft eyes met, a smile forming on her wide lips as she stepped down from her throne. The man, dressed in a loose tunic and dark pants, grinned back as he left the apple on a small table next to the throne and held his arms out. The queen laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as the man encircled her waist, holding her tightly with a chuckle. Raising her head, Aslaug kissed the rough cheek covered by hair, "Good morning, my son."

Ubbe pulled away, his smile never leaving his lips as he kissed the queen's forehead, "Good morning, mother." Though his feet were cold and his arms tired from previous activities from the other day, early mornings were something he cherished with his mother. It's practice that is a rarity between the two yet, the quiet mornings when everyone else was asleep and the servants worked diligently is when the two can simply converse. Aslaug's arms slipped away from his neck, walking towards the long dining table to take a seat.

Ubbe smiled, taking a seat next to the woman with his legs spread wide apart and a half eaten apple in his hand. "How was the hunt?" his mother asked eagerly, her legs across and elbows resting on the table as she leaned closer. Ubbe sighed, scratching his chest absently. "Ivar never showed up, Sigurd was probably somewhere with that slave again. So it was just Hvitserk and myself." Ubbe smirked, remembering the childish glee both found themselves in after hunting down the small herd of deer. Looking towards his mother, Ubbe raised his eyebrow in suspicion. "Where was Ivar, mother?"

Taking a berry from a bowl that was neatly placed beside her, Aslaug shrugged, sliding the fruit in her mouth. "In all honesty, I thought he was with you. I hadn't seen him all day except for the yesterday in the morn. He told me he was going to the blacksmith's hut." Ubbe nodding, deciding it was best to leave his youngest brother alone rather than try to look out for him twenty-four seven like his mother. He knew that the boy needed some alone time, being that mother always tried to coddle him since he was a young boy. "Speaking of slaves," Ubbe continued, leaning closer, his elbows resting on his knees as he tilted his head to the side. "Don't think I didn't see you yesterday walking with the man and woman by the port." Aslaug chuckled, rolling her eyes as she plucked another berry from the bowl and slipped it between her teeth. "You will meet them eventually Ubbe. Do they interest you?" Scoffing, Ubbe pulled away, taking a large bite of his apple and shrugged innocently.

A cool hand slipped behind the base of Aslaug neck, causing her to jump visibly and shoot a glare at her attacker. "Hvitserk." the queen hissed at her second older resulting in a hearty laugh to leave his lips. Dressed in a similar tunic and pants as his brother, Hvitserk nodded towards his brother and gave him a rough pat on his shoulder. "Good morning family, how are we all?" The young man asked, walking around the large table to take a seat in front of his mother. Ubbe smiled, taking a small of water that one of the slaves presented him and gulped slowly. "Simply catching up. I was telling Ubbe of our new servants." Hvitserk's ears perked as he sat straight, eyes searching for the new 'facility' members. "I didn't know you got new slaves, where are they? Ubbe, is there a girl? Is she pretty?" The two laughed as the young man bombarded them with questions. Cupping her chin with her hand, Aslaug smiled softly, glancing back and forth between the two as Hvitserk continued to ask questions that Ubbe had no answer to.

The quiet patter of shoes slapped against the wooden floor as the young slave from earlier entered the Great Hall, catching the attention of all of the royals. Aslaug sighed in annoyance, her mind questioned why the boy has arrived alone. Ubbe and Hvitserk, on the other hand, were disappointed, thinking this was one of the newer servants. "My queen, the slaves you have summoned are just out front." the boy's voice was shaky and soft, his eyes trained on the floor. "Is this not the new slave?" asked Hvitserk, free to voice his concern due to the chance of having a new playmate likely being thrown out the window. Shaking her head, Aslaug ignored her son briefly. "Bring them inside then." Her answer was short and hostile, scaring the boy as he quickly turned around and ran to the front entrance. Hvitserk and Ubbe glanced at each other, both curious about their mother's short temper. Before either could Aslaug sighed, "Don't…do not worry about me. I'm just tired." Her reasons being already known, and the reasoning behind that left the family bitter and sadden. _The loss of Paris…The loss of Ragnar._

Before Aslaug could dwell further into her thoughts, she watched as the two slaves entered the Great Hall. Pairs of golden eyes frantically looked around the building in awe, taking in the designs from the sleek dark floor to the walls decorated with flags and weapons. Soft murmurs and gasps in awe left the lips of the two, fascinated by the Great Hall. As the two slowly made their way towards the dining table Aslaug smiled, leaving her chair and made her way over to the slaves. Ubbe and Hvitserk watched carefully, their eyes searching for the faces of the new slaves yet they couldn't yet see.

Amund nudged his sister's arm, tilting his head towards the approaching queen as he lowered his upper half. Looking over at her brother, Runa followed his movements while her eyes lowered to the ground before she could see what was in front of her. A soft laugh rang across the hall causing both of the siblings to smile softly as their new master put a hand on their shoulders. "It is good to see you both again." Runa was the first to stand, her shoulders straight and her lips curved into a gentle smile. "You as well, my queen." Amund nodded in agreement as he stood upright, his lips forming a slight grin. Releasing their shoulders, Aslaug turned towards the table and waved her hand forward. "Come, I want you both to meet my oldest sons." Ubbe and Hvitserk quickly glanced at one another, both in shock of the queen's warm greeting for just slaves as if they were somewhat friends.

Runa was the first to catch their attention, long, wavy hair colored black as night was laid loose across stable shoulders. The maroon makeshift dress she wore hugged every curve from her round breast to her wondrous wide hips. Hvitserk gulped, his eyes looking up to meet a pale face; eyes that held a beautiful hazel color. Her lips curved into a warm smile of greeting, her nose straight and cheeks that were colored pink from the cool weather. Ubbe and Hvitserk shifted in their seats, eager to meet their new servant. Before either could speak to the girl, a rough cough caught their attention. There right next to the tall woman, stood a large bear of a man. His eyes were dangerously similar to the goddess's, his body large and sculpted. Wearing a dark tunic that exposed some of his inked chest, dark leather pants, and black boots. His hair was tightly braided back in a long braid, both sides of his head exposed and a short beard. Aslaug watched with amusement as Hvitserk looked away from the older man, pouting in disappointment. Yet Ubbe smirked, his eyes locked in competition with the unfamiliar man that stood between himself and the beautiful girl. "Runa, Amund this is Ubbe my oldest son. And that is Hvitserk, his brother." Amund's teeth bit the inside of his cheek in annoyance, leaning his head down to give them both respect only to please the queen. Runa followed suit, her eyes watching her brother cautiously.

Ubbe leaned back in his chair, eyes shining with interest as he watches the two slaves raise their head. "So these are the new slaves, I must say mother you have made a worthy selection." Runa slipped closer to her brother, her eyes tracing the stature of one of her new masters as Aslaug made her way to her oldest, Ubbe. Taking a seat, Aslaug ignored the hungered looks Hvitserk and Ubbe gave the youngest sibling and smiled, "Go to the kitchens and help ready breakfast. Both of you." Nodding Amund left without a word, his eyes locked on Ubbe's face as his lips twisted into a deep frown. Runa smiled kindly at the queen but didn't acknowledge the men as she caught up with her brother in long strides. With the leave of the slaves, there was a moment of silence between the three. Hvitserk, obviously being the first to break it, "Mother-" "No." Hvitserk gasped in false shock as he raised a hand to his chest. "Mother! Let me speak, please!" Aslaug and Ubbe laughed at his rehearsed actions. "Hvitserk I would watch where your eyes wonder. That man wouldn't hesitate to knock some sense into if you keep staring at his sister." Looking to his older brother in defense, Hvitserk let out a pained cry. "Ubbe, do you not feel my pain?" Trying his best to remain indifferent, Ubbe shrugged as he picked up his cup and drank. "I have my eyes on another Hvitserk, and you already have enough women under your finger." Aslaug smacked her son on the arm lightly as Hvitserk let out a bark of laughter, knowing well that his brother is right.

"Well, you can never have too many." Aslaug rolled her eyes as her sons joked with each other, her heart warmed by their friendly jests. Before the two brothers could delve into darker conversation, Aslaug interrupted with slight concern. "Hvitserk, was Sigurd asleep in the back?"With a hum of agreement, Hvitserk stood, grabbing a handful of berries and snickered, "I'll go and wake him up, aye?" As the second oldest made his leave, Ubbe and Aslaug gave each other a tired look, knowing the argument that was to come before the morning could officially begin.

First, there was silence; periodically random slaves would walk in and out, placing down jugs of milk, bread, fruits, and soups. A soft crash rang from the back of the Great Hall followed by soft cursing that caused the mother and son to chuckle under their breath. Then silence again. Waiting for any hints of cursing or fighting, Aslaug sat still, the tips of her fingers tapping the wooden table anxiously. Runa and Amund walked carefully towards the table, holding plates of thin meats and dried fruit. Holding up a hand, Ubbe signaled the siblings to stand still, his eyes calming against their questioning gaze. Aslaug looked towards the pair, smiling as she waved her hand towards the chairs, giving permission to sit. Amund slipped towards the chairs, setting aside the tray of dried fruits towards the mother and son with a nod as he pulled a seat open for his sister and himself. Nodding in thanks with a grin, Runa placed her tray of meat on the table and sat close towards her brother, her hazel eyes watching the two in confusion. Before either of the dark-haired siblings could voice their concerns a loud squeal arose from the back the Great Hall. Hvitserk rushed from behind the curtain, his hands stained dark red and head thrown back in laughter. "Wake up Sigg!" called Hvitserk as he ran towards his eldest brother, hiding behind the leather chair.

Runa watched, her lips pulled into a large grin as a young man covered in juices of berries came into her line of sight. Wild blonde hair was dirtied by the juices and skin of berries, his face bright pink and sweaty. Raising his arm, Sigurd rubbed away the berry remains from his eyelids to see properly. Smirking, Amund's eyes met with the snake-eyed boy, his face filled with mischief as tried his best to cover the laugh that rested on the tip of his tongue. On the other hand, Runa let out a hearty laugh, catching the attention of the three brothers with warmth all in their heart. Sigurd looked at the girl with wide eyes, a blush forming on the tops of his cheeks as he wiped the rest of the berries off his face. "Who…who is this?" Sigurd asked watching the two strangers abruptly stood as they gathered the serving plates. Before either of the brothers could introduce the newest slaves; a shallow voice called out for the slaves, the voice strained by apparent struggle. Looking towards the queen apologetically, the siblings slipped past the young man covered in berries and towards the kitchens.

Confusion and irritation consumed Sigurd's features as he turned back towards his family, his eyebrows furrowed together. Ubbe was the first to clarify his younger brother's thoughts, "Mother brought new slaves into our service. Runa is the girl, the man is her older brother Amund." The man sighed, lips pressed against the cool metal of the cup he held as if waiting for Sigurd to question him on farther. "When did they arrive?" probed on the messy blonde as he slipped next to his mother, giving her a soft kiss on her forehead in greeting. Before Ubbe could answer, Hvitserk intruded, his lips curved into a twisted smirk, "Why do you ask, brother? Does the girl interest you?" Glaring at the older blonde, Sigurd tore a dried strip of meat between his teeth. "She is a mere slave. I have no interest in what she thinks." Aslaug chuckled, her hand cupping her young son's face as she wiped dried flakes of berries from his brow. "After your first encounter, I'm sure she feels the same." The eldest laughed heartily, everyone grinning at the red-faced boy who continued to pout and complain about how unfair the morning was.

* * *

The morning when on as any morning would go. The Great Hall filled with laughter and warmth, the greeting of the sunlight kissing the skin of the royal family as they all parted ways to start the day. Yet, Runa was given orders to visit closest blacksmith's shop to deliver food. Though curiosity clouded the hazel eyes, Runa was in no right to deny her master's wishes. So she trooped on, a cloak to protect her strong body from the harsh breeze of Kattegat while carrying a small basket of food. Reciting the orders the Queen gave her, the girl paid no heed to the glances men and women gave her as she walked down the beaten paths of the large town.

Instead, the dark-haired woman found herself speechless as she watched the town slowly awaken. The cooing of chickens and yelping of young pups reaching her ears as her eyes watched commoners slipping out of their homes, readying themselves for a day of trading and training. Young boys and girls slipped past their tired parents, greeting one another happily and chasing balls to play with. The young woman's heart reached out to the children, her lips stretching into a kind smile as she looked up the beautiful blue skies. The sun beat down on her face softly, giving her warmth that the girl openly accepted due to the cold air that chilled her skin.

Turning the same corner that Queen Aslaug advised her to, Runa was met with an open hut, the scent of coal and fire breathed into her lungs as she walked towards the shop. Inside stood a man neither great in stature nor looks sharpening a blade in his soot-covered hands. Before him laid a large array of weapons from axes to arrow heads. Runa approached, her smile still graceful as she greeted the man. "Good morning, I'm looking for a man by the name of Ivar. Queen Aslaug told me he might be here?" Small gray eyes met with the girl, the dirtied man watching carefully as the woman spoke. "Boy ain't been 'ere since yesterday. Probably home by now." Letting out a soft sigh, Runa shook her head. "No, I was there earlier today…thank you for your time." Turning away, the dark-haired girl chewed her lips slowly, her mind mulling over what the Queen would do to her now that she had failed the first order given to her.

"Oi!" Runa turned her head back, her hazel eyes flashed golden in curiosity. Slowly standing, the short-haired man raised a calloused finger towards his left. "If he ain't home, the boy may be with his brothers in the training fields. Head out of Kattegat towards your left, ask for guidance from there on." Smiling, the girl nodded quickly and waved her hand in thanks. Her feet moved fast, quickly walking past large crowds of men and women, her basket tightly pressed against her chest so it may not fall or 'disappear'.

* * *

"You should have seen her Ivar. The slave was prettier than even the blonde one!" exclaimed Hvitserk as he sat on the fresh hill. Ubbe snickered, his hand twirling his blade as the eldest brother gazed in the distance. "Why don't you have her then, Hvitserk?" questioned Sigurd his brother from the lowest branch of the thick tree that stood behind the trio that sat. "And, for the last time, her name is Margrethe." Hvitserk shrugged, "So what? Who cares about her name. She is a slave." Looking at the younger blonde, Ubbe raised his eyebrow in amusement, "And what's the name of the new-" "Runa." Hvitserk and Sigurd spoke in unison earning a bark of laughter from the eldest of the Ragnarssons.

While his brothers quarreled and joked of the newest slave, strong arms carried themselves away from the scene, wanting to sit in silence. The young man dragged himself down the hill and past the front row of trees, bright blue eyes searching for somewhere to think in peace. Towards the left sat a large white tree, it's large roots protruding out of the ground just so the young Ragnarsson could sit. His leather layered hands met with the dirt, pulling himself closer and closer towards his destination as the soft sound of crickets filled the void. Calloused, rough hands laid themselves on the smooth plains of white wood, his arms pulling his upper body up and throwing himself onto the root. His back leaned against the truck, pulling his crippled legs by the bounds of leather on top of the large root. There Ivar the Boneless sat, his mind set free as the crisp forest air cycled through his lungs smoothly. The silence was his friend, and apart from his brothers about the only friend that Ivar truly had.

Soft chirping of birds soothed his tired mind. The simple breeze that caressed him gentle like the touch of a soft woman sent pleasant chills down the young man's spine. Soft blue eyes gazed past the mass of trees and greenery that laid out before him. It was all safe here, there was no judgment to be passed, no blood to be spilled. All the man had was the thoughts that danced through his head and the symphony of nature at his display.

Suddenly, a trembling bush caught Ivar's attention causing the man to sit upright in surprise. His hand immediately fell to the axe that was tightly strapped to his hip; rough fingertips brushing against the sharp blade as cold blue eyes trained on the bush. The movement fastened, a loud yelp silenced the symphony as a young woman tumbled out of the bush. Falling on her backside, the mystery girl let out a long groan, her hands tightly gripping a lidded basket as her wild hazel eyes frantically looked around.

The tips of his lips twitched to life, watching as the young female scrambled onto her feet and started to mumble under her breath, not taking notice to the man sitting only yards away. He lifted his hands onto his lap, taking in every detail of the female. Wavy black hair that tumbled down ample breasts. Her dress was form fitting for the woman, showcasing all of her curves and dips that caused his gloved hands to tingle with want. Her soft hazel eyes shined gold in the sunlight, a small straight nose and pretty pink lips that were calling his name silently.

She heard a throaty chuckle, causing Runa to snap her neck in the same direction of the sound. Clear blue eyes captured her, this man who sat stiffly against a large tree. His long legs were bound together by leather straps and buckles, his upper body covered by layered cloth and leather. _He's crippled…This is Ivar The Boneless then._ Ivar's hair shaved on both sides leaving a mop of short, dark brown hair to cover his head. His nose was straight, lips slightly thin and pale pink that was twisted into a deep smirk. His sharp jaw line and long neck craned towards her as those enchanting eyes stared her down.

Time stilled for only a moment, the two seemingly lost in each others' eyes. Ivar was the first to speak up, "Who are you girl?" His voice was cold, sending shivers down her spine as if Ymir himself breathed against her neck. Running her tongue against her bottom lip nervously, Runa smiled at the man out of kindness. "My…" she cleared her throat quietly, " My name is Runa. I am under service for Queen Aslaug and her sons." _This is the girl?_ Thought Ivar carefully, his lips curving into a grin as he eyes the girl wolfishly.

Runa felt her cheeks pinken, her eyes never leaving his as she spoke. "I was ordered to give this to the youngest son of Queen Aslaug. Assuming that's you of course…" she gestured to the basket in her hand with a nod of her head. As if taking everything under careful consideration, Ivar lifted his leather covered hand, beckoning her forward. Tilting her head to the side carefully, Runa watched as the man before her smirked, her body stiffened under his gaze. Each step she took was measured and careful, her body shifting forward as the dark smirk only widen. As soon as she was in reach Ivar yanked her closer by her wrist, chuckling as she almost tripped forward, her other hand's grip on the basket was vice.

Golden eyes danced carefully with the ice blue hues, her free hand now set down the basket in his lap carefully so it may not fall. Releasing her wrist, Ivar turned to the basket having not eaten since yesterday morning due to his travels around the town and forest. The first fruit presented to him was a green apple which he snatched, taking a large bite of the fruit gleefully. Ivar chewed slowly, leaning his head back slightly in content as his cold blue eyes slid to the slave that stood quietly to his side. With a heavy gulp, the man spoke. "You have fulfilled your orders yet you still stand there." His tone was harsh yet curious, as if surprised she had not hurried away from him already.

Runa raised her eyebrows in surprise, her voice seemingly lost as she opened her mouth but no words arose. The smirk crawled back across Ivar's lips causing the similar pink kisses to fill her cheeks yet again. "Or do you enjoy being around your master?" asked the sly prince, his free hand now slipping around the young woman's waist.

With a rough yank, Runa was tightly pressed to the prince's side, her place face now a heated pink as she clutched her hands into fist out of nerve. "M-My prince…I simply await orders." No one has made the slave feel this way, no one has held her this close unless it was her brother. Ivar chuckled, enjoying the display of emotions that the slave relieved as his hand softly massaged her hip. "I sense that you and I will get along quite nicely. Don't you agree, Runa?" he spoke, rolling her name slowly as if it were a sweet to enjoy.

The dark-haired girl simply nodded, her body enjoying his heated touch against her hip as her mind replayed the prince's voice in her head. Releasing her, the prince took another bite of his apple as his free hand flicked away. "Go back to the village, I want a bath prepared for myself when I return." Tracing her hip bone with his calloused fingers, Ivar's eyes darkened as he looked up at the girl. "Maybe you will join me as well.."

A deep red blush flourished on the pale skin of the slave as she struggled to answer. "I-I…Master, I feel that I-" The prince let out a sharp bark of laughter, his head shaking. "Do not fret, little one. I'm only joking." Ivar grinned visibly showing off his canines in almost a comical way. Though slightly nervous Runa giggled softly, her hand brushing off a few loose strands from her face. Ivar studied her actions with keen interest, never had a woman shown this much enthusiasm in conversation unless for political reasoning in the Great Hall or slaves who he groped openly in front of everyone and only respond in humiliation or straight faces.

The obedience this girl showed surprised Ivar, though he refused to let it show. Ivar yanked his hand back, looking away from the young girl as he surveyed the basket in his lap. "Go, I'm sure mother will want you to help prepare for tonight."With a soft nod, Runa smiled softly towards the man, slipping away from the prince's side. "Of course Master." With that Runa took her leave, taking only a few steps forward before quickly turning her shoulders. "Um…Master?"

Ivar now had the apple core cast away on the ground, his hand holding dried meat as he raised his head. Bright blue eyes looked towards the girl questioningly. "Will I-" "Ivar!" Sigurd rushed down the hill, causing the youngest to groan as he tore a piece of meat with his teeth. "Yes, my dear brother?" Ivar's tone was sickly sweet, his words dripping with enough sarcasm that even made Runa feel bothered. "You met the new slave. Hopefully, you were kind." Sigurd stalked closer, light green eyes never leaving the young female as she turned to face the pair.

"Oh yes, I was acting like a true Christian." the young prince hissed, his cold blue eyes staring daggers into his older brother. "Something you taught me. Right, Sigurd?" The snake-eyed boy didn't answer, a deep frown set on his face as he turned towards his brother. "I won't be insulted by a cripple." he grumbled, puffing out his chest as he inched closer. Ivar snickered, his tongue rolling over his teeth as he leaned forward, "Oh, but this cripple is what you truly fear is it not?" Sigurd did not answer, his lip curled into a distasteful snarl as the crippled prince tilted his head forward, challenging the older brother to speak up.

Before either could continue their petty arguing, Runa slipped towards the cripple, resting her hand on his shoulder. Ivar flinched back, his cold eyes surprised by the touch as they snapped up to meet gentle hazel orbs. "Master," Runa drawled as her hand gave the younger prince a soft squeeze on his shoulder. "Would you like to accompany me?" Her eyes were filled with worry, making his heart reach out to her in ways he refused to truly accept.

Stealing a glance towards Sigurd, Ivar noticed the unmistaken jealousy that was deeply seeded in his eyes, making the young prince let out a breathy laugh. "No, my sweet I cannot. I will stay with my brothers here for the time being." Ivar looked up at the girl, wrapping his arm around her waist just as it was previously, this time pulling her flush against his body as he craned his neck slightly. "Be sure to get back safely, I wouldn't want anything happening to my pet." His husky voice danced against her ear, making Runa's cheeks darken as she nodded. "Y-Yes Master…" Golden eyes flashed towards the other prince, noticing the distasteful stare Sigurd towards his younger brother that made the young slave frown. Ivar pulled away, his wolfish grin laid across his face in a suiting manner as his hand gripped her hip, whether she simply enjoyed or tolerated his touch Runa wasn't truly sure.

Giving both of the brothers a kind smile, Runa slipped away from the prince, their eyes only meeting for seconds more before she turned away from the two and walked past the bush Ivar once saw her fall out of. _I wonder what caused her to fall?_ thought Ivar as he shook his head, the grin now replaced with a softer smile. "You know she belongs to all of us, right?" asked Sigurd sharply, interrupting the cripple and the thoughts of his new favorite.

Ivar glared at his older brother, letting out a dark growl as he raised more dried meat to his mouth. "We shall see, brother."


End file.
